


hypnosis

by knightspur



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Sex, Bachelor Party, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Lapdance, M/M, Porn With Plot, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 11:06:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12793266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightspur/pseuds/knightspur
Summary: “I um, know one of them. Kinda.”“Kinda?” He asks, amused now.“He’s the cute bakery guy,” Soonyoung says, hiding his face in his hands.It’s not that Soonyoung is ashamed of what he does. He enjoys it, most of the time— he loves dancing, he likes feeling sexy. But, having someone who’s only ever seen him in a mundane context… someone he has acrushon being suddenly introduced to his job like this is stressful, to say the least.





	hypnosis

Soonyoung is running a little bit late on his whole day. This isn’t that unusual for him, and the threat of showing up fifteen minutes late to work isn’t sufficient to keep him from stopping at the bakery that’s halfway between the club he works at and his apartment.

It is, if he’s honest, just slightly out of the way, but the detour is worth it.

Pinwheel Bakery is Soonyoung’s favorite place in the world for satisfying the sugar addiction he’s well known for having. Not just because of the massive, fluffy muffins. Or the excellent coffee.

The thing that keeps Soonyoung coming back before every shift is the man behind the counter who always gives him extra whipped cream on top of his coffee without asking. He’s the reason behind the smile on Soonyoung’s face the moment he walks into the brightly decorated bakery, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

There hasn’t been a day yet when Soonyoung has walked in to find that his favorite part of the day isn’t there. He’s wearing a crisp, blue button up shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows and flour covering his stomach. The name tag pinned to his breast says _Seokmin_ and today he has purple frosting smeared on one of his cheekbones, covering the little beauty spot on his cheek.

Soonyoung’s crush on him has gotten a little pathetic.

“Seokmin-ah,” he says, leaning his elbows on his side of the counter, scrunching his face a little when he smiles. “Did you run out of towels?”

He’s pulling Seokmin’s attention away from the tray of cookies in his hand, making it wobble precariously for a moment before Seokmin catches it with his other hand.

“I have some! Do you need one?” He asks, whipping his head around again to look at Soonyoung. The smile on his face is bright as always and Soonyoung’s heart does a little jump in his chest. He shouldn’t be palling around with Seokmin like this— he’s already late enough as it is.

“No,” he says, waving Seokmin over. He leans closer when Seokmin stops in front of him but chickens out before he actually leans far enough to wipe the frosting off his face. “But I think you do.”

He taps the spot on his own cheek as well, making Seokmin fluster for a moment, rubbing the back of his hand over his cheek and making the frosting spread a little further.

“Did I get it?” He asks, smiling, and Soonyoung nods his head without a thought.

“Yeah, you’re good,” he says, fighting back the fondness that wants to seep into his tone. Soonyoung is too old, too experienced, to still have a puppy crush on someone like this.

“I have special cupcakes today,” Seokmin says, already moving to grab one out of the display without actually asking what Soonyoung wants. He’s in here often enough that Seokmin usually just picks something rather than asking for his order. “My friend is getting married this weekend so I’m celebrating.”

The cupcake he sets down carefully on the counter is decked out in the same shade of purple stuck to his cheek, a carefully created white and purple rose on the top. They’re lovely— which is true of everything that Seokmin bakes. “Do you want a mocha today too?”

He’s already moving as he asks, boxing up the cupcake along with another identical one before turning to make coffee.

“Sounds perfect,” Soonyoung says, leaning his chin on his hand and watching Seokmin’s back as he makes coffee. “Are you going away for the wedding?”

“It’s in the city,” Seokmin says, looking over his shoulder with a smile. “I’m going to a bachelor party tonight, though.”

“There’s something fun,” Soonyoung says, grinning. He’ll probably be part of plenty of bachelor parties, albeit on the other side of things. Seokmin pauses to put a truly unholy amount of whipped cream on top, his nose wrinkling as he smiles and nods his head.

“Are you working all weekend again?” Seokmin asks, blinking gently as he sets the drink in front of Soonyoung as well. Soonyoung nods his head, glad that his face doesn’t flush with heat.

It’s not like he’s new to what he does, it’s hardly anything to be embarrassed about at this point.

(It helps, of course, that Seokmin has no idea what Soonyoung’s job is.)

“Unfortunately,” he says, smiling as he passes money over to Seokmin. “But the tips are better on the weekends, so it’ll be fine.”

He takes both the cupcakes and the coffee, still fighting the desire to do something stupid like wipe as Seokmin’s cheek or lean across the counter and kiss him full on his handsome face.

“I hope you enjoy yourself,” he says, nodding his head since he doesn’t have a hand to wave with, resigning himself to the fact that he’s definitely going to get scolded for how late he is. Seokmin laughs, warm and low in the back of his throat.

“As long as everyone makes it to the wedding tomorrow I think it’ll be okay.”

**{* * *}**

After shaking off the glaring, disapproving look Jihoon gives him for being late (and appeasing his temper with the extra cupcake from Seokmin), Soonyoung focuses on getting himself ready for his shift.

Which involves putting on makeup to make his eyes glitter and stand out and changing out his comfortable sweater and jeans for a pair of small, slightly obscene gold shorts, the thin lace bands on the legs drawing more attention to his thighs. The shirt is mesh, tight to his body, covered in sparkling gold stars to match his stage persona.

There’s a pair of stockings that complete the outfit but Soonyoung leaves them to the side, for the time being, choosing instead to join Jun in lurking just behind the curtain of the stage, peeking out at the club with a smile.

“Anything fun happening?” He asks, leaning on his toes to hook his chin over Jun’s shoulder. Jun glances back at him, his makeup already done and his hair gelled back to expose his forehead and his dark eyebrows.

“Party just showed up,” he says, keeping his voice low. He turns to the side, slipping his arm around Soonyoung’s waist instead. “They ordered a whole lot of champagne so I’m guessing someone is getting married.”

Soonyoung hums, leaning against Jun’s shoulder. There’s a while yet before either of them are supposed to go on stage, which means they _should_ be out on the floor mingling before the night’s line up goes on stage.

But it’s fun to take stock of what they’re up against first. Soonyoung leans forward a little more, gripping the curtain in one hand so it doesn’t slip away and reveal the two of them.

It’s not hard to pick out the party that Jun is watching— four or five guys surrounding a bottle of champagne and sitting directly at the end of the stage. The tall one in the center has a sash across his chest that Soonyoung can’t read but imagines identifies him as someone’s husband-to-be, though the red in his cheeks is as clear a mark as anything else. His friends, on the other hand, are clearly enjoying his embarrassment, nudging his attention toward every dancer that walks by.

Soonyoung is smiling until he recognizes one of the guys— it’d be hard not to since Soonyoung saw him just an hour ago, though he’s changed and his face is clean of frosting.

But Seokmin’s smile is a dead giveaway, bright and shining even under the multi-colored club lights. Soonyoung’s stomach drops to his feet, his mouth hanging open.

“Holy shit,” he says, staring wide-eyed even as Jun prods at his side.

“What?” He asks, following Soonyoung’s stare. “I don’t think they’ll cause trouble.”

“Do you think Jihoon will notice if I go home?” Soonyoung asks, stepping away from the curtain to ruffle his fingers through his hair. Jun turns to raise an eyebrow at him and Soonyoung sighs. “I um, know one of them. Kinda.”

“Kinda?” He asks, amused now.

“He’s the cute bakery guy,” Soonyoung says, hiding his face in his hands. 

It’s not that Soonyoung is ashamed of what he does. He enjoys it, most of the time— he loves dancing, he likes feeling sexy. But, having someone who’s only ever seen him in a mundane context… someone he has a _crush_ on being suddenly introduced to his job like this is stressful, to say the least.

Not that Jun seems to get it, because he laughs, patting Soonyoung on the back as he breezes past. “Maybe he won’t recognize you.”

Soonyoung groans again, following after him to finish off getting dressed. He can’t avoid going out onto the floor forever.

**{* * *}**

Dragging Mingyu off to a strip club had actually mostly been at Minghao’s own suggestion. Which was a little silly, having him suggest where they take his fiance for his half of their separate bachelor parties, but the way Mingyu’s whole face had flamed red at the suggestion alone was enough to sell them on the idea.

He looks near to fainting now that they’re actually settled into their seats. Seokmin laughs, giving his shoulder a little nudge.

“You’re supposed to be having fun,” he says because judging by the look on Mingyu’s face he definitely needs the reminder.

“I don’t know what you’re supposed to do here,” Mingyu says, whining as he looks over at Seokmin. “Where do you like, put your hands?”

“In your lap,” Wonwoo says on his other side, leaning back in the comfy seat he’s taken for himself. “You’re not supposed to touch anybody.”

“Oh,” Mingyu says, sounding just a little bit puzzled. He’s already lost Wonwoo’s attention, though. His eyes are dedicated to following one of the dancers drifting across the floor with a smile on his face.

He’s handsome, Seokmin has to admit and his outfit does little to hide the shape of his ass or the lean muscle covering his chest. Wonwoo is leaning forward in his seat without seeming to realize it, watching the lace framing the other man’s thighs as he walks. Seokmin is tempted to laugh, settling into his seat and glancing at Seungkwan next to him with a grin.

“I think we’ve lost Wonwoo-hyung,” he says, giving his shoulder a little pat. Seungkwan looks up from his phone with a roll of his eyes, shaking his head.

“That didn’t take long,” he says, tucking his phone back into his pocket.

“How goes the other half?” Seokmin asks, leaning on Seungkwan’s shoulder. It’s not hard to guess that he’s checking in on Hansol and Minghao and their party.

“They’re at some kind of underground dance contest,” Seungkwan says, shaking his head. “They’ll probably get stabbed.”

He hardly sounds like he’s lamenting the impending loss of his own boyfriend and it makes Seokmin laugh, muffling it into Seungkwan’s shoulder. Seungkwan pats the back of his head with a sigh.

“Then again, we’re all here to get robbed by beautiful men, so I’m not sure who has it worse,” he says, sighing as he glances over at Wonwoo now staring at the dancer he’s talking to like he might be able to take his clothes off early through force of will alone.

He’s about to quip something at him, grinning when he catches sight of a surprisingly familiar face.

It would be hard to mistake Kwon Soonyoung since Seokmin only saw him an hour ago before Nayoung came in for her shift, but he’s never seen Soonyoung look anything like he does now.

The Soonyoung he’s used to seeing is partial to big clothes— sweaters that hang over his hands, shirts that hang to his hips, jeans cuffed at the ends to show his thin ankles. But now he’s wearing barely anything at all; gold shorts, what appear to be tights that end in a dark band of lace around his thighs and a shirt so sheer that Seokmin can see the line of his spine and the fine bones of his shoulders.

He’s definitely staring even harder than Wonwoo, eyes threatening to pop out of his head, and Seungkwan lofts out a heavy sigh. “Not you too.”

“No no,” Seokmin says, shaking his head and trying to pull his eyes away. “I, um, know that guy.”

“Who?” Seungkwan asks, twisting around in his seat to look over at Soonyoung. He makes a sound, something between a laugh and a hum. “You know _him?”_

“He comes to the bakery a lot,” Seokmin says, rubbing the back of his neck in the hope of hiding how hard he’s blushing. He’s probably the cutest patron that Seokmin’s bakery sees, and he’s definitely Seokmin’s personal favorite.

Seungkwan glances at Soonyoung once more, a smile catching at the corners of his lips. “I hope you wash your hands after he pays.”

“I didn’t know this is where he worked!” Seokmin says, his voice getting a little too loud as he protests. Mingyu looks over at the two of them, apparently having given up on looking at nothing but the ceiling for the whole night.

“What are you bickering about?” He asks, squinting at both of them.

“Seokmin-hyung is buddies with one of the strippers.”

“You said you’d never been here,” Mingyu says, a little pout on his lips and Seokmin covers his face with a groan.

“I haven’t! He comes to the bakery,” he says, peeking between his fingers. He can’t tell if Soonyoung has noticed him there or not.

He doesn’t get a good chance to find out because there’s a loud blare of music overhead. Seokmin jumps, dropping his hands to his lap. Apparently, the loud music is some kind of signal, because both Soonyoung and the boy Wonwoo was talking to disappear behind the heavy black curtains once again.

Seokmin wants to crawl under a table and refuse to come out for the rest of the night, but Mingyu has the gall to look entertained by his plight and it is his celebration.

“Does this mean I can get away with no lap dance?” He asks, looking at Seokmin then Wonwoo, a grin on his face. Seungkwan heaves a sigh, looking back at the stage and shaking his head.

The crackling PA overhead announces that the first dancer for the evening is Jun, and from the way Wonwoo jerks up in his seat like a puppet on strings, Seokmin assumes this is the person who caught his attention already.

When he steps out on stage, Seokmin can see why. Jun is exactly what Seokmin would picture if someone were describing some kind of sex demon to him; long, sinuous limbs and dark eyes. He seems like he could stare straight through you. There’s a level of intensity to all of his motions, his fingers toying with the hem of his flimsy top like he’s not sure about taking it off or not.

He moves in perfect time with the music, his hips rolling in such a way that Seokmin feels a little bit dizzy watching. He teases the mesh shirt up over his lean chest, his fingers spread to drag over as much skin as possible. 

Seokmin can’t help but glance over at Wonwoo when Jun’s shirt drops to the stage, pooling at his feet like water. Wonwoo’s attention is laser-focused on every move Jun makes on the stage and Seokmin grins a little, nudging his elbow into Seungkwan’s side.

“I think Wonwoo-hyung just fell in love,” he says, his voice a whisper in spite of the loud music. Seungkwan looks over and has to muffle a laugh. Wonwoo’s interest looks like a very intense poker face; mouth set into an impassive line, eyes slightly lidded. 

Seokmin doesn’t really want to think about any other place he might be showing interest.

Mingyu, on the other hand, looks like he struggling not to hide behind his hands. Seokmin nudges his elbow into Mingyu’s side, glancing up as the tight leather pants around Jun’s legs get torn off and dropped to the floor, trying his best not to laugh.

“Are you having a good time yet?” He asks, beaming when Mingyu groans.

“I’m definitely not having a good time,” he says, not even trying to avoid whining. Seokmin laughs, leaning his cheek on Mingyu’s shoulder. “Why couldn’t we go to Minghao’s dance thing?”

“The point of the party is to spend the night _away_ from each other,” Seokmin says, rolling his eyes just a little. Mingyu shrugs his other shoulder, shaking his head.

“But why does it have to be here?”

“Because this is where Minghao wanted us to take you,” Seokmin says, his next thought interrupted by the PA crackling to life overhead once again, announcing that the next dancer on the stage is someone named Hoshi.

“Just relax! We’re here to have fun,” Seokmin says, patting Mingyu’s shoulder, a little glad for the distraction from looking around to see if he catches sight of Soonyoung again.

Which makes it more of a shock when he turns away from Mingyu to see Soonyoung on the stage already. He can’t help the surprised noise that squeaks out of his throat, his hands dropping to squeeze the denim of his pants in his fists, eyes wide.

He’s aware of Seungkwan laughing from next to him but he can’t process it, his eyes magnetized to Soonyoung— Hoshi— up on the stage. It’s hard to cope with the whiplash of difference, the friendly boy who he’s used to seeing every day, whose eyes light up when Seokmin heaps whipped cream on top of his already sweet coffee with the person he’s seeing now.

On the stage, Soonyoung seems like an entirely different person. The bright beam of a smile that Seokmin is used to seeing is gone, replaced by a little pout that shows off the shape of his mouth and the makeup he’s wearing is bright gold and dark, making them stand out even more. But Seokmin is immediately distracted from his face by the way Soonyoung’s body moves as soon as the music starts. His hips roll with every step in a way that can’t be anything but suggestive and Seokmin can’t pull his eyes away.

He’s dressed in more clothes than Seokmin expects, with a golden, star-covered jacket and pants that seem like they’re trying to meld with his skin. Seokmin can see a peek of sheer fabric under the jacket before Soonyoung pulls it tighter around his body for a moment, dropping it down his arms with a roll of his shoulders. He steps to the end of the stage before he drops it to the floor and maybe it’s just the intensity with which Seokmin is staring, but it seems like for just a moment he tosses a little smile in Seokmin’s direction.

Soonyoung stops at the end of the stage, sliding his hands down his thighs, pulling Seokmin’s gaze along with them. It feels like his throat might be closing up, his breath wheezing out of his lungs when Soonyoung’s thumbs hook into the waist of his pants, pulling them down teasingly. There’s another flash of gold beneath his pants and Seokmin finds himself leaning forward in his seat as it vanishes again like he might be able to bore his eyes through the fabric.

He spins on his heel, his back arching sharply as his hips rotate and Seokmin jabs his elbow in Mingyu’s direction without breaking his stare at Soonyoung. “Cash.”

“Ow! What?” Mingyu says, rubbing his arm and swatting Seokmin’s hand away.

“Cash!” Seokmin says, louder this time, darting a glance at Mingyu. “We brought a bunch, didn’t we?”

“Quit elbowing me,” Mingyu says, pushing Seokmin away again. Soonyoung keeps his back turned, pushing his pants down below the swell of his ass, revealing a pair of gold underwear that shows off his round ass perfectly. Mingyu huffs a little sigh, apparently not amused by Seokmin’s over-eager attitude.

Soonyoung’s fingers move to a pair of ties at the hips of his pants that Seokmin hadn’t noticed before, giving each one a slow tug and causing them to fall away from his legs and drop to the floor. Mingyu finally fumbles his wallet out, mumbling something about how it’s not fair for Seokmin to send him off to his wedding with bruises before passing a handful of bills into Seokmin’s hand. There’s a look on his face like he thinks Seokmin is being entirely ridiculous, which is hardly new to Seokmin.

He sort of wants to throw himself bodily on the stage and give him the money like some kind of offering. Given the chance, he’d construct an altar in Soonyoung’s image. Instead of doing either of those, he stands and waits until Soonyoung is finished having attention heaped on him by a group of businessmen in suits on the other side of the stage, trying not to jitter his way out of his skin.

It doesn’t take more than a moment or two for Soonyoung’s attention to turn toward him, and Seokmin can’t tell if it’s just his overexcited imagination that makes it seem like Soonyoung pauses, his eyes scraping over Seokmin. He doesn’t know if Soonyoung really does recognize him or if that’s too much to hope for.

“Hi handsome,” he says, his voice pitched lower than Seokmin is used to, a little purr embedded in his words. Seokmin is definitely blushing like an idiot, his hands hovering in mid-air like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with the bills clutched between his fingers.

Soonyoung’s lips tilt up into a smile, reaching out and grasping Seokmin’s wrists gently, pulling his hands forward until they’re level with Soonyoung’s hips. When Seokmin starts to tuck the money in the waist of his shorts, he gives his hips a little wiggle. It makes Seokmin swallow hard, static fizzling in his brain. Soonyoung’s fingers linger on his wrist for a moment, squeezing before he lets go with a grin.

Behind him, Seokmin can hear Mingyu and Wonwoo laughing as Soonyoung struts to someone else and Seokmin is left for a moment standing there with his brain leaking out of his ears. Seungkwan, proving himself once again to be Seokmin’s only true friend in the world, lofts out a heavy sigh before pulling Seokmin back into his seat.

“It’s a good thing you’re not a stranger to making a fool of yourself,” Seungkwan says, shaking his head. Seokmin can’t help but smile, leaning back in his seat and trying to pull his eyes off of the perfect arch of Soonyoung’s back as he walks.

“I guess so,” he says, still distracted. Seungkwan wrinkles his nose, looking for a moment like he wants to smack Seokmin on the back of the head. Thankfully, Soonyoung leaves the stage before that happens and Seokmin is granted control of himself once again.

“I can’t believe he has a thing for a stripper,” Mingyu says, and the level of delight in his tone makes Seungkwan laugh.

“A stripper with a sweet tooth, it seems.”

Seokmin shrugs one of his shoulders, giving both of them a huffed out little sigh. “Wonwoo-hyung isn’t any better.”

“I don’t have a crush,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head. His mouth is set into a tight, adamant line which only serves to make it seem like he’s got something to hide. Mingyu giggles, the sound high enough to make Seokmin wonder how much of the champagne he’s had by himself.

“You’re both going to get robbed,” Seungkwan says, shaking his head, lamenting.

Seokmin is about to argue the point further, though he knows better than to debate Seungkwan when he sees Soonyoung appear once again over Seungkwan’s shoulder. The look on his face must change because Seungkwan frowns. He looks over his shoulder and gives Soonyoung a look over that is definitely not out of lust.

It gives Soonyoung’s even gait a half-second of pause like he’s not sure if he should take the chance to approach. But Seokmin smiles, sitting up a little straighter in his seat and that seems to make him relax a little as well. He doesn’t have his attention set directly on Seokmin, instead, he stops in front of the group of them with an easy smile on his face, the slight lean of his body drawing attention to the jut of his hips.

“Alright, who’s the one getting married?” He asks, his smile growing when Seokmin reaches out to shake Mingyu’s shoulder.

“Our very large friend,” Seungkwan says, leaning back in his seat and still giving Soonyoung a skeptical eye. Mingyu puts his hands up immediately, his eyes going immediately wide.

“No dance please,” he says, sounding like he’s genuinely pleading. It makes Soonyoung laugh, bright and genuine, a sound Seokmin is glad he recognizes it from all the times he’s seen Soonyoung in the bakery. He holds his hands up in return, shaking his head.

“No dances then,” he says and this time when his eyes dart over to Seokmin he’s sure he’s not imagining it. It sends an excited bolt to the pit of his stomach— far more than it probably should. Soonyoung leans his head slightly to the side, his smile inviting as his eyes sweep over them. “Unless someone else is interested in one.”

It would make him seem more smooth if Seokmin didn’t lurch immediately out of his seat— less like an overeager puppy being offered a treat but he doesn’t quite have the self-control to keep it from happening. He ignores Seungkwan scoffing behind him, swallowing in an effort to try and make his voice come out sounding more steady.

“I’m, um, interested,” he says, his words stumbling a little. It makes his cheeks heat up, but the smile on Soonyoung’s face swells and it makes Seokmin smile as well. Soonyoung’s hand wraps around his wrist, tugging him away from the rest of them with a little more enthusiasm than Seokmin was expecting. He lets Soonyoung drag him without a thought, through a dark velvety curtain that conceals a set of stairs.

“Where are we going?” Seokmin asks, his voice dropping to a whisper as Soonyoung leads him down the stairs. Soonyoung tosses a look over his shoulder, the dimmed lights making his eyes sparkle.

“Private rooms,” he says, his tongue swiping over his lower lip, his voice lowered to match. “Why are we whispering?”

Seokmin can feel his face flush at that because he’s not sure why. But Soonyoung seems amused more than anything, tapping his knuckles twice against one of the doors before pushing it open and nudging Seokmin inside ahead of him.

The room is more lavishly decorated than Seokmin expects, with a comfortable looking leather couch and neutral painted walls. He’s not exactly sure what he _was_ anticipating the room to look like, but it’s a surprise no matter what. Soonyoung releases his wrist, tilting his head toward the couch.

“You can go ahead and sit down,” he says, the little purr from before back in his voice. Seokmin flounders for a second, looking around the room like there’s somewhere for him to sit other than the couch. He can hear Soonyoung giggling as he takes the seat, slipping behind another curtain and leaving Seokmin temporarily by himself.

It isn’t great for his nerves, as it turns out. As soon as Soonyoung vanishes from sight, Seokmin finds himself bouncing his leg anxiously up and down, peering around the room like somehow getting more familiar with his surroundings will make him less nervous. He wasn’t lying to Mingyu when he said he’d never been to this club— he’s never been to _any_ club like this, in fact. He’s not exactly sure how this is supposed to go; more than anything he just wanted the chance to talk to Soonyoung without his friends making snide remarks about it.

Except he definitely told Soonyoung he was interested in a lap dance. He wasn’t lying about that either, even if thinking about it too hard makes him feel a little bit faint. Seokmin catches himself worrying his lower lip between his teeth, fingers curling into fists on his thighs. He probably shouldn’t have done this. It’s going to make things weird next time he sees Soonyoung— if Soonyoung doesn’t stop coming into the bakery entirely after this.

The thought that maybe Soonyoung will stop coming entirely makes Seokmin freeze in his seat, certain that he’s made a massive mess of things already. He should have just left Soonyoung alone while he was working, or pretended that he didn’t know him. He’s definitely being strange, now, sitting stock still while Soonyoung does who knows what behind the curtain and Soonyoung is going to come out and figure out that Seokmin has a crush on him—

Music pours through the speakers behind Seokmin, making him jolt out of his thoughts and nearly off the couch. When Soonyoung steps out from behind the curtain he has on less clothing than Seokmin expects; just a loose shirt that hangs fetchingly off of his shoulder and the same pair of tight golden shorts he was wearing on the stage. They almost vanish beneath the hem of the shirt but Seokmin can see a little flash of the bright fabric with every forward step Soonyoung takes, his hips once again picking up the rhythm of the song he has playing. Seokmin doesn’t recognize it, or maybe he does and he’s just moved past the point where he’s capable of thinking clearly.

“Um,” he says, licking his lips nervously as Soonyoung gets closer, not sure if he should be looking him in the face or watching the roll of his hips, the way his fingers toy with the hem of the shirt like he can’t quite get it to set right. Soonyoung raises one eyebrow, the smile on his lips small, playful.

“Just relax,” Soonyoung says as he gets closer like he’s reading part of Seokmin’s frantic mind. “Sit back.”

Seokmin complies, leaning his shoulders against the back of the couch though there’s still a line of tension zipping up his spine. It makes Soonyoung giggle, muffling the sound of it by biting his lip. Seokmin isn’t sure if he should ask if Soonyoung recognizes him or if this is just the treatment any customer gets.

Before Seokmin’s mind has any more chances to spiral out of control, Soonyoung is standing directly in front of him and leaning over to put his hands on Seokmin’s knees. Seokmin jumps a little and Soonyoung’s smile grows a little.

“You don’t have to be so nervous,” he says and Seokmin nods his head dumbly. Soonyoung chuckles, giving Seokmin’s knees a small squeeze. “I’m not gonna bite you or anything.”

“You can if you want,” Seokmin says before his mind catches up with his mouth. Soonyoung blinks once, his mouth curling into a devious smile. Seokmin’s cheeks flush with heat, shaking his head quickly. “I mean… I didn’t mean—”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Soonyoung says, his fingers dragging across Seokmin’s legs slowly. Seokmin opens his mouth to say something but ends up choking on his own air when Soonyoung shoves his legs apart wide enough to fit himself in between them. Seokmin's hands drop from resting on his thighs to lying useless on the couch at his sides, palms turned upward. Soonyoung has his hands resting still on Seokmin's thighs, pressing down a little as he starts to sway once again in time with the music. 

He lifts one hand away from Seokmin's leg to pull the hem of his shirt upward, showing off his thighs and the very bottom of his soft stomach. Soonyoung bends his body in half, so his face is close to Seokmin's, the hand still braced on his leg giving a teasing squeeze. 

They're close enough that Seokmin could lean forward and kiss him if he was brave enough, close enough that he can see the dusting of golden glitter on Soonyoung's collarbones, making the arch of it shine. As quick as the thought occurs to him Soonyoung is standing up again, removing his warm hand and turning around.

Whatever question was resting on the tip of Seokmin’s tongue is entirely forgotten when Soonyoung’s weight comes to rest gently in his lap. He wouldn’t have thought it possible for his body to grow tenser, but as soon as he registers Soonyoung’s ass resting on him he nearly bolts out of his own skin.

He narrowly avoids knocking both himself and Soonyoung flat on the floor and he’s glad when Soonyoung doesn’t immediately start laughing at him. He keeps his hands carefully to the sides, curling them into loose fists when Soonyoung rolls his hips in an agonizingly slow circle.

It’s would be impossible to hide the fact that he’s ridiculously hard now that Soonyoung is actually in his lap. It must be at least a little expected and Soonyoung doesn’t say anything about it. He seems focused, instead, on dragging his shirt slowly up his back, arching his back as it lifts, making the curve of his back stand out more. Soonyoung lifts both arms, his hands curling through the back of his hair before turning his head to look back at Seokmin.

“Do you wanna help me out?” He asks, one eyebrow arched slightly. His shirt is bunched up around the middle of his chest and Seokmin hesitates, his lip caught between his teeth. The one thing he’s certain of is that he’s not actually supposed to be touching Soonyoung. But the invitation is hard to mistake and he reaches slowly to gather the shirt in his hands. Soonyoung leans back into his chest, head tilted to make it easier.

Seokmin lets the fabric fall out of his hands, swallowing hard and holding his breath without thinking about it. They hang in the air, trying to be careful not to let his fingers skim over Soonyoung’s skin, as tempting as it is. Soonyoung still has his head tilted a little to the side, his lips pushed out in a slight pout as Seokmin drops his hands down on the couch again. 

Soonyoung sighs out light as air, catching his lip between his teeth and settling his whole weight in Seokmin’s lap once more. He reaches, grabbing Seokmin’s wrists and fitting them on his hips. Seokmin squeezes them once before swallowing hard, starting to pull away in spite of Soonyoung still holding his wrists.

“S- sorry,” he says, his voice stumbling. Soonyoung blinks, releasing his wrists and standing. Seokmin starts to move, assuming he’s going to be kicked out for being hopelessly awkward but Soonyoung returns to his lap after turning around, his knees bracketing Seokmin’s hips.

“Seokmin-ah,” he says, a little frown on his face. It makes Seokmin’s heart leap, blinking his eyes as he looks up at Soonyoung. “Would you _please_ just touch me?”

The request catches Seokmin off-guard but he nods his head dumbly, bracketing Soonyoung’s hips with both hands once again. Soonyoung drapes both arms over his shoulders, bringing them closer together. Seokmin isn’t yet brave enough to do anything other than hold onto Soonyoung’s hips, feeling them roll once more over his lap. It’s hard to swallow down the groan that rises up in his throat, tilting his head back against the back of the couch.

When Soonyoung leans in, his breath tickling over the column of Seokmin’s throat, he almost lurches out of his skin. His hands slide up to hold around Soonyoung’s waist, fingers sliding over his bare skin for the first time. He’s surprisingly soft and Seokmin can’t stop his hands from roaming further, dragging over Soonyoung ribs, feeling his silk soft skin.

“I didn’t think that um, you recognized me,” Seokmin manages, his voice more unsteady than he expects it to be. He slides his thumb over Soonyoung’s stomach. Soonyoung’s lips press softly to the side of his neck, almost too fleeting to really be called a kiss before he leans back with a little pout on his face.

“You think too hard,” Soonyoung says, a little giggle in his voice. It’s the only time Seokmin has ever been accused of anything like that and he laughs. Soonyoung’s hips roll forward, and with how tight his shorts are it’s impossible to mistake his level of interest.

“Can I…?” Seokmin starts, lifting a hand to cup lightly around Soonyoung’s cheek, thumb at the corner of his lips. Soonyoung nods his head, leaning in to plant his mouth against Seokmin’s. Seokmin’s fingers slide into his hair, gripping the back of it. He catches Soonyoung’s lower lip in his teeth, nipping at it and sucking gently. It makes Soonyoung whine, his nails scratching at the back of Seokmin’s neck. There’s a burst of heat under his skin and he can’t stop his mouth from moving like he wants to devour Soonyoung.

From the response it seems like Soonyoung doesn’t really mind, his arms tight around Seokmin’s neck, hips grinding the two of them together. Seokmin groans, the sound muffled by Soonyoung’s mouth against his, dragging his hand up Soonyoung’s back.

“You can have your way with me,” Soonyoung says, dragging his fingers up the side of Seokmin’s neck. His eyes are fuzzy and dark and Seokmin’s stomach twists. He grips one hand on Soonyoung’s thigh, nodding his head a little in agreement. He nudges his hips up against Soonyoung’s, groaning softly at the friction. Seokmin holds tightly onto both of Soonyoung’s thighs, standing just enough to turn them to the side, laying Soonyoung’s back on the couch.

Soonyoung makes a surprised sound, laughing as he stretches his body out, back arched a little, preening when Seokmin looks down at him. Seokmin hesitates, his fingers splayed over the inside of Soonyoung’s thigh, swallowing hard. “Is it okay if I suck you off?”

“Fuck, yes,” Soonyoung says, tilting his head back. Seokmin makes a pleased sound in the back of his throat, pressing his palm into Soonyoung’s hard cock, letting him grind up against it. Soonyoung whines softly, one of his legs draped over the back of the couch, opening them up further. Seokmin scoots back so he has enough space to bend himself over, kissing the inside of his thighs until he reaches the hem of the gold shorts, digging into them with his teeth.

He keeps his hands on Soonyoung’s hips, his mouth sliding up over the outline of his cock, tongue leaving a slick trail on the shining fabric. When his mouth comes to the elastic waist he grips it between his teeth, pulling it down past the leaking head of his cock. He glances up to see Soonyoung’s teeth caught between his lips, pupils wide he watches Seokmin.

Seokmin doesn’t grab the elastic between his fingers until he’s already pulled the tight shorts past his cock, shoving them down his thighs and out of the way. He drags his tongue over the tip of Soonyoung’s cock, fingers holding his hip steady as he wraps his lips around it. Soonyoung makes a high, bitten off sound in response, his hips arching toward the damp heat of Seokmin’s mouth.

The pressure of Seokmin’s hand on Soonyoung’s hip is light, guiding rather than keeping him in place. He presses his tongue against the slit of Soonyoung’s cock before letting it slide further into his mouth, one hand fitted under his thigh and squeezing the muscle of it.

He takes a deep breath before letting the head of Soonyoung’s cock slide into his throat, breathing out slowly through his nose. Soonyoung’s head falls back with a groan, his hips jerking up in response. “Oh shit, Seokmin.”

Seokmin glances up, watching Soonyoung’s chest heave around his next breath before swallowing around Soonyoung’s cock. Soonyoung bites off another curse, his hand weaving his fingers in Seokmin’s hair. Seokmin lifts his hand off of Soonyoung’s hips, letting him thrust unevenly into his throat.

He’s careful not to thrust so hard that Seokmin chokes, whimpering as he holds tighter onto Seokmin’s hair. The music he had turned on has shifted into something with a low, pounding bass beat that Seokmin can feel in his chest and it’s a counter to the high whining sounds that come out of Soonyoung’s mouth. Seokmin lifts his mouth, a few heavy breaths coming out of his mouth as he drags his tongue over the shaft of Soonyoung’s cock.

Soonyoung’s fingers pet through his hair, nails scratching at the back of his head, a little grin on his face. “I think you’re like, an angel.”

Seokmin laughs at that, burying his face in Soonyoung’s thigh, his shoulders shaking a little.

“Are you saying that because I had your cock in my mouth?” He asks, giggling still as he presses a kiss to the tip of it. Soonyoung nods his head, grinning still.

“And you keep me caffeinated,” he says, giving Seokmin a tug to urge him to sit up enough to kiss him once again. “So obviously you’re an angel.”

He should be far past blushing this point, but Soonyoung is so earnest in the way he says it that Seokmin can’t seem to stop himself. Soonyoung reaches between the two of them, pulling Seokmin’s belt open with steady, sure fingers. He tugs it free of his pants with a low hiss of sound. Seokmin bites his lip when Soonyoung pulls his pants open trying to swallow down all the thoughts that pop into his head.

Part of him wants to ask if this is something Soonyoung does a lot but the words get stuck in his throat when Soonyoung’s teeth scrape over his pulse point, his fingers wrapping around Seokmin’s cock through his briefs. Seokmin groans softly, pressing his forehead into the juncture of Soonyoung’s shoulder, tongue sliding over his sweat-slicked skin. He bites down, just shy of leaving a mark, his hips arching into Soonyoung’s hand.

“Oh hell,” he says, his cheek against Seokmin’s temple. “We don’t keep lube in these rooms.”

Seokmin laughs a little, sliding his hand up Soonyoung’s side. It makes sense, of course, that he’d be less than shy. He has palm still pressing into Seokmin’s cock, his face screwed up in thought. He blinks twice, leaping off the couch suddenly with a smile on his face. “Ah!”

He vanishes behind the curtain, leaving the golden shorts behind him. Seokmin sits up, blinking a little until he reappears, naked now with a small bottle clutched in one hand. “We have body oil.”

“Do you have…?” Soonyoung starts, lifting both of his eyebrows and it takes Seokmin a moment to realize what Soonyoung is asking.

“You don’t have condoms here?” He asks, only realizing once it’s out of his mouth how stupid that question sounds. “That was dumb. Ignore that.”

“It’s a strip club, not a brothel,” Soonyoung says, rolling his eyes with a laugh.

Seokmin digs through his wallet for a moment, glad he’s able to produce a condom from the dark recesses of it, holding it up triumphantly.

The excitement on Soonyoung’s face almost makes Seokmin laugh again but he swallows it down and instead pulls his shirt off over his head and drops it to the ground. Soonyoung pauses, tilting his head a little to the side, his smile getting a little wider.

Seokmin blinks, looking down at his chest, half expecting to find frosting stuck to him somewhere. Soonyoung makes it back to the couch, settling himself close enough to set the oil to the side and slide his fingers down one of Seokmin’s arms.

“I didn’t expect you to be all muscled,” Soonyoung says, and the appreciation in his voice is impossible to miss. It makes Seokmin flush, resisting the urge to flex his arm, ducking his head a little.

“It’s from making bread, mostly,” he says, and Soonyoung giggles, sliding his hand up to Seokmin’s shoulder to pull him closer. Seokmin goes along easily, eager to kiss Soonyoung again, pressing them together chest-to-chest. Soonyoung presses the bottle into his hand, adjusting so he’s laying on the couch under Seokmin, his thighs parted.

When he looks down, Seokmin’s mouth goes dry, running one of his thumbs over Soonyoung’s nipple. He presses down, relishing in the slight whimper that slips out of Soonyoung’s mouth. He manages to open the bottle of oil without spilling it all over both of them, his nose twitching at the sweet smell of it. He slicks it over his fingers, the excess dripping onto the couch between them.

He slides his hand between Soonyoung’s thighs, caressing two fingers over the bunched muscle of his rim. Soonyoung’s jaw tightens, his head tilting back against the arm of the couch. Seokmin presses his mouth to Soonyoung’s chest, nipping the arch of his collarbone, sliding one finger in slowly.

Soonyoung groans softly, his hips arching up toward Seokmin’s hand. His body squeezes tight around the slight intrusion of Seokmin’s finger, lip caught between his teeth. Seokmin squeezes a hand around his thigh, pressing his finger in deeper and giving his wrist a slight twist.

Seokmin takes his time, opening Soonyoung up around one, then two fingers, leaving a littering of bite marks on his collarbone. He’s probably going to end up with gold body glitter smeared over his face but he can’t help but think it’s entirely worth it, especially for the soft groaning sound he makes each time.

He lines up a third finger and Soonyoung whines, his body arching upward. He’s still surprisingly tight around Seokmin’s fingers like his body just barely has the space to take so much. Soonyoung’s mouth is hanging open, his chest fluttering around every breath. Seokmin kisses under his jaw, curling his fingers and dragging them along Soonyoung’s walls, seeking the spot that makes his voice shoot high and strained.

When he finds it, Soonyoung jerks, his fingers digging hard into Seokmin’s shoulders. There’s a shiver running down his spine like he’s trying to escape his own skin. He pulls Seokmin tighter against him, mouth against his neck, the side of his jaw, leaving bites restlessly.

“Fuck, okay. C’mon,” Soonyoung says, his voice shaking. Seokmin ducks his head, looking at where his fingers are buried between Soonyoung’s thighs. He’s wondering if he’s actually going to fit in the vice-tight grip of Soonyoung’s body. “’M good, c’mon Seokmin.”

Soonyoung gasps softly when Seokmin’s fingers slide out, worrying his lip between his teeth. Ripping open the plastic packet, Seokmin slips the condom on carefully. He presses his legs further apart, fumbling the bottle of oil and slicking it over his cock with a soft groan. He’s careful in lining himself up, the blunt head of his cock spreading Soonyoung open further.

Seokmin has to bite down on a loud sound, pressing his head into Soonyoung’s chest as he slides in slowly, holding Soonyoung’s hips in both hands. He doesn’t let out a breath until he’s entirely engulfed in the silky heat of Soonyoung, and even then it shakes. Soonyoung’s arms reach up to grasp tightly around Seokmin’s neck, pulling him into a kiss that’s more a hungry meeting of their mouths than anything else.

It’s all Seokmin can do to hold himself still until Soonyoung rolls his hips up carefully, his self-control quickly slipping away from him. He pulls his hips back slowly, groaning when only the head of his cock remains inside Soonyoung. Underneath him, Soonyoung tilts his head back with a whine.

His hips lift up, rolling forward and sliding Seokmin’s cock back inside him. Seokmin jerks forward at the surprise of it, his grip on Soonyoung tightening though he makes no effort to keep Soonyoung from moving. One of Soonyoung’s hands drops from Seokmin’s neck to grip the couch, nails scrabbling over the fabric. He keeps rolling his hips, his pace slow and a little uneven, his body tight like a bow ready to fire. It’s almost like he’s riding Seokmin from beneath him and all Seokmin can do is hold onto him.

He slides his hands up Soonyoung’s waist, fingers mapping the lines of his back. He kisses Soonyoung again, their mouths messy, passing heavy breaths between them. Soonyoung squeezes tighter around him when Seokmin’s mouth traces the line of his neck.

Seokmin is sure he’s barely going to last, with Soonyoung raising his hips in a slow, constant grind. He works one hand between them, still thrusting as well as he can along with Soonyoung’s established rhythm. He wraps his fingers around Soonyoung’s cock, thumb swiping over the slit of his cock, stroking him steadily. Soonyoung whines, his hips jerking when he finds the right angle to rub the broad head of Seokmin’s cock against his prostate.

“Oh shit,” Seokmin groans, his hips snapping forward unevenly when Soonyoung’s hole clenches around him. Soonyoung gasps, his nails dragging down Seokmin’s back, probably leaving thin red lines in their wake. Seokmin’s fingers dig into the soft flesh around his ribs, thrusting in hard again.

Soonyoung’s calves wind tightly around his hips, squeezing on each of Seokmin’s thrusts, his head falling back with a loud groan. “Seokmin— fuck. Close—”

His words come out stumbling and broken and Seokmin twists his wrist as he strokes Soonyoung’s cock, grinding their hips together. Soonyoung’s voice shoots loud before dropping off suddenly as he comes, his body shaking like he’s at risk of falling apart. It makes his rim flutter around Seokmin’s cock like it’s trying to pull him in deeper. Seokmin gasps, pressing his forehead into Soonyoung’s chest, thrusting gently through his orgasm.

He waits until Soonyoung has finished before he rolls his hips again, his pace more gentle. It won’t take much to top him over the edge anyway, with the hot coil in the middle of his stomach wound so tightly. Soonyoung rolls his hips up again, still fucking himself on Seokmin’s cock even as he whimpers from the sensitivity.

Seokmin snaps his hips forward hard twice, pushing as deep as he can when he comes. His arms wrap around Soonyoung on the impulse to hold him as close as possible, groaning into the hollow of his throat. He rides out his orgasm by thrusting unevenly and by the time he finishes Soonyoung is squirming underneath him.

The couch the two of them are on doesn’t allow for Seokmin to do much more than collapse on top of Soonyoung, making him huff out a little breath, laughing. Seokmin can’t help but grin as well, kissing Soonyoung’s cheek.

“How many songs is that?” He asks, doing his best to adjust so he’s not crushing Soonyoung with his waist. Soonyoung leans his head back, giggling madly.

“I don’t think I can charge you for that,” he says, turning to look at Seokmin, a flush high on his cheeks, bangs plastered to his forehead. It’s a little late for Seokmin to be noticing (once again) how startlingly lovely Soonyoung is. It makes him feel strangely flustered, even as he slides his softening cock out of Soonyoung.

The two of them lay in silence for a moment before there’s a loud pounding knock on the door. It makes Seokmin jump, sitting up in wide-eyed surprise. Soonyoung sits up more slowly, leaning on his elbows and turning his head toward the door.

“Soonyoung I swear if you’re just screwing around with the music playing I’m going to skin you!” Someone shouts from the other side of the door and Soonyoung rolls his eyes, a little grin on his face. He stands up, grabbing his underwear from the floor as he trips across the room, pulling them on before he cracks the door open.

The person on the other side is far smaller than his knock, or his voice would suggest.

“I’m with a customer, Jihoonie,” he says, his voice a sweet coo. Seokmin can see the slight frown on the small man's face, crossing his arms.

“Finish up or charge extra,” he says, shaking his head and walking away. Soonyoung shuts the door with a sigh and a little chuckle, looking back at Seokmin with a smile.

“My manager is charming,” he says, winking as he stoops over to pull his thin shirt back on. Seokmin takes the hint, tying the condom off and reaching to pull on his clothes as well after dropping it in what he’s fairly certain is a trash can.

“I should probably, um,” Seokmin starts, rubbing the back of his neck once he has his pants back on, trying not to sound as awkward as he feels. He’s absolutely going to get ripped apart by Seungkwan for getting dragged off by a stripper and not coming back the whole night.

“Your party,” Soonyoung gasps, his eyes wide. “I forgot!”

“It’s fine,” Seokmin says, shaking his head. He doesn’t exactly want to say that he thinks it was more than worth skipping out on Mingyu’s bachelor party, even if it’s the truth. Soonyoung bites his lip, hesitating near the door, his eyes sweeping Seokmin up and down.

“Tomorrow,” he says after clearing his throat, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Are you um, working?”

“I’m making the wedding cake,” Seokmin says, smiling a little. He steps forward, reaching out and taking Soonyoung’s hand gently. “But I’m giving myself the day off on Sunday.”

Soonyoung looks down at their hands for a moment before looking up at Seokmin with a grin. “Can I give you my number, then?”

Seokmin smiles, pulling out his phone, dismissing all the increasingly frustrated messages from Seungkwan. “Yeah, please.”

**{* * *}**

As excited as Seokmin is to see his two best friends getting married, he has trouble keeping his hands off of his phone. Except for the time during the ceremony (and the toasts, and the dancing) that he spends crying, he keeps stealing peeks.

He’s checking for new messages from **Kwon Soonyoung (^ᴥ^)** , which certainly doesn’t go unnoticed by the people around him.

Mostly Seungkwan and Hansol who are sitting next to him. Seungkwan gives him a flat, slightly annoyed look when he opens his phone again, checking for notifications.

“Who in the world are you texting?” He says, shaking his head when Seokmin locks his phone in a panic. “Everyone you know is here.”

Hansol laughs at that, his hand wrapped around Seungkwan’s, leaning over his shoulder with a smile. “Probably whoever gave him the nasty ass hickey.”

If Seokmin were a smarter man, he wouldn’t give either of them a response, since it won’t go anywhere good. But he glances up at them, grins then tucks his phone back into his pocket. “I have a date tomorrow.”

“You have a date?” Seungkwan asks, frowning slightly before he bolts upright, dislodging Hansol from his shoulder. “The stripper!”

His voice is loud and it carries despite the music and the people talking and Seokmin ducks his head, a bright flush on his face. Hansol blinks slowly at the both of them.

“What stripper?” He says, in the voice, he always uses when he thinks he’s missing something vital going on. Seungkwan glares at Seokmin’s embarrassed face, shaking his head.

“You fucked a _stripper_ during Mingyu’s bachelor party,” he says, his voice an accusatory hiss this time. Hansol grins, wide and toothy.

“Really? All I got to do was see Minghao-hyung almost get us into a street fight,” he says like that’s not an experience on its own. Seungkwan twists in his seat, his brows knitting together. Hansol laughs, kissing his temple. “He got us out of it too.”

“I can’t trust any of you,” he says with a long sigh. “No one. I can’t close my eyes for a second.”

Ignoring his boyfriend’s apparent stress, Hansol holds his hand up for a high five, laughing when Seokmin slaps his palm. “Way to go, hyung.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Seungkwan says and Seokmin chuckles, smacking a wet kiss against his other temple.

“He’s nice! He comes to the bakery all the time,” Seokmin says, leaning his arm on the table. “I think you’ll like him. He’s funny.”

Seungkwan looks like he doesn’t quite believe that, but the smile on his face must convince him of something because he takes a long sip of his champagne and takes Hansol’s hand again.

The next time he checks his phone there’s a text from Soonyoung, and when he glances up from answering it, he’s sure he catches part of a smile on Seungkwan’s face.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Meg for the idea of "Seokmin owns a bakery and Soonyoung is a stripper who gets food there regularly" and I hope you all enjoy 10k of stripper!soonyoung. Yell at me for my choices @dumbkyeomie on twitter


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